Parenting
Trigger warning: miscarriage, stillbirth, pregnancy loss
Having experienced six miscarriages, I can attest that the most painful aspect of this journey is the invisibility of the grief. If you fracture a bone, your injury is visible to everyone around you. People naturally offer assistance, your colleagues pitch in with challenging tasks, and those at your child’s school inquire about your wellbeing. No one expects you to pretend everything is fine when you are clearly in pain.
In contrast, with miscarriage, you endure profound sorrow and loss yet must navigate your daily life as if nothing has happened because your suffering is hidden from view. Nobody at the grocery store recognizes that you are fighting tears as you struggle to complete your shopping. Friends and family engage in casual conversations about brunch plans, oblivious to the fact that brunch is the last thing on your mind. You pick up your children from school and engage in lighthearted chat about the weather, all while desperately holding back tears.
In my most recent experience, I endured what is known as a “missed miscarriage.” At my nine-week ultrasound, I discovered that my baby had stopped developing a week and a half earlier and that the heartbeat was gone. My body, however, was unwilling to release the pregnancy, meaning I had to carry my deceased child for five days before my scheduled D&C. During that time, I went through my routine—using public transport, attending meetings, and picking up my son—while no one around me had a clue about the emotional burden I was carrying.
My second loss was different but equally devastating. At 18 weeks, we received the heartbreaking news that our longed-for baby had chromosomal issues that would not allow for life outside the womb. We faced the agonizing decision of whether to terminate the pregnancy or risk delivering a stillborn child. We made the choice to terminate, and on December 23, the doctor stopped the baby’s heart, with a D&E scheduled for December 27. Despite the circumstances, my family insisted on celebrating Christmas, believing it would help distract me. Yet, nothing could truly alleviate the grief of knowing my baby was still inside me during the holiday festivities.
My third miscarriage felt surreal. After spotting at 11 weeks, a doctor confirmed the absence of a heartbeat and indicated that I would soon begin to miscarry. The next day, I experienced severe contractions and delivered my tiny baby in the bathroom. Just 15 minutes later, I participated in a conference call, masking my shock and devastation from everyone on the line. The aftermath of that day still resonates as an out-of-body experience for me, a scene I watched unfold from a distance.
The anxiety accompanying each new pregnancy is also invisible. Each time I conceive, I am gripped by the fear of another loss. Every day becomes a delicate balancing act, and even routine trips to the bathroom fill me with dread. As I strive to reach that 13-week milestone, I remain acutely aware that no one outside my world understands the turmoil I am navigating.
So, what have I learned throughout this journey? The pain remains hidden only if we choose to keep it bottled up. It’s crucial to confront it, acknowledge it, and share it with others. Whether that means explaining why you’re canceling plans or taking time off work, it’s essential to communicate your struggles. Superheroes show their strength through their actions and support systems, and so should we. If you don’t want to wear a sign that says, “I had a miscarriage this week,” the only path to receiving support is to ask for it. Share your grief, and your loved ones will be there to lift you up.
For more helpful insights on pregnancy and loss, you can check out this excellent resource on pregnancy. Additionally, for those looking for guidance on fertility, Make a Mom is a great authority on the subject. Don’t forget to visit another one of our blog posts here for further reading.
Summary:
Miscarriages often result in profound, invisible pain that can be difficult to convey in everyday life. As experienced by the author, the emotional burden of such losses is frequently endured in silence, leaving individuals to navigate their grief while appearing unaffected to the outside world. It is important to recognize this pain and share it with others to receive the support needed during these challenging times.